


Not Even Subtle About It

by kujojongup



Series: Random YoungUp Stuff [9]
Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Awkward Flirting, Based on a Tumblr Post, Crack Treated Seriously, Drabble, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jongup Is Just Doing His Job, M/M, Youngjae Is A Bit Of A Pervert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 15:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14547729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kujojongup/pseuds/kujojongup
Summary: Jongup is offended that he’s the one assigned to accompany Youngjae in his study for a few hours.Deeply offended.





	Not Even Subtle About It

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this on a whim and it's not good oh well deal with it
> 
> i just like this idea so i spat this out in less than an hour

Of course. It _has_ to be him stuck in this predicament, isn’t that right?

It couldn’t be Daehyun, who can’t stand within fifteen feet of the king without blushing madly. And it couldn’t be Himchan, who’s been caught going on a rather colourful rant about how attractive the king is. There’s no way it could’ve been Junhong, who would gladly stab himself if the king wanted him to. And hell would crawl through the cracks in the stone roads before Yongguk—the one person who can actually handle being around the king—is selected.

Of course. It has to be Jongup stuck in a predicament which happens to be one of his worst nightmares.

He’s no expert, but he’s fairly sure there’s nothing fair about this. Sure, he can internalize his feelings and show no visible signs of distress, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a complete mess.

After all, he’s just a guard doing his job so he can send money back home to his sister—and His Majesty is everything he’s not.

Beautiful beyond compare; not even the finest women from familiar or foreign lands can compare to the magnificence of Yoo Youngjae. Handsome yet pretty, he’s an aesthetic force to be reckoned with. He’s no pushover, though. To his name there’s the title of an irrefutable war hero who saved not only his home kingdom, but two now-allied places, with his flawless strategy and precision on the battlefield. That was how he became king, unborn of noble blood but rising to the top of the steep hierarchy. It’s like fate made it all out for him, putting scandals on the right people so Youngjae could gain more power through status.

And he’s only thirty years old—just a year older than Jongup.

How is he supposed to act in the presence of someone so successful compared to him?

When the day’s over, he’ll storm the quarters of Youngjae’s bodyguard and demand an apology. It doesn’t matter if he’s ill, and that Youngjae’s just so benevolent that he gave him a rest day. Jongup is offended that he’s the one assigned to accompany Youngjae in his study for a few hours.

Deeply offended.

 

* * *

 

Jongup stands perfectly still, to the right of the chaise longue and slightly to the back.

The temptation to grab Youngjae’s hand, which is twirling aimlessly as he leans on the armrest, is too strong.

Someone walks in to place a tray of sweets and a tall glass of wine on the ornate table in front of Youngjae—and Jongup is pretty sure that wine glasses aren’t supposed to be filled past halfway up.

Then again, he’s only ever seen Himchan drink wine, and Himchan pours maybe three sips worth of wine in the glass at a time. It’s doubtful he’s a reliable source.

He discreetly watches as Youngjae moves his fingers over the tray and—oh God, it smells _amazing_. Strawberries, apples, cranberries, a million rich fruits baked into pastries that are probably worth more than Jongup’s own life. And he can’t even sniff loudly, forced to rely on whatever wafts over to him naturally.

The things he’d do to be a king and have all of that at the snap of his fingers.

“…Sir Jongup.”

The sound of Youngjae’s voice—the sound of Youngjae’s voice saying his name—shocks Jongup momentarily. It takes him a moment to let it sink in.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” he says, in what he calls his noble voice.

“Come around and sit next to me,” Youngjae instructs. Naturally, Jongup obeys as his heart threatens to burst out of his chest and splatter all over the floor. He thinks steam is coming off of his face.

No visible signs of distress—though. He's stoic, and he’s proud of it.

He watches curiously as Youngjae holds the glass of wine out to him. “I like my glass to be filled a third of the way, but this is filled two thirds of the way,” he says with a raised eyebrow. “Drink half of this. It might be poison.”

So, he was called in to be murdered? Great. Wonderful.

Youngjae’s a genius—if he thinks something might be poison, it’s probably poison.

Maybe that’s why his bodyguard isn’t present, because they suspected a murder plot and the king is obviously not going to risk the life of his most trusted protector. And it just so happens that Jongup is the poor soul who dies today.

Fate’s always worked in the king’s favour. If Jongup is supposed to die today, so be it.

With perfectly-masked terror, he does exactly what Himchan taught him, hoping he doesn’t look like a fool in front of the king. Breathe as you take in the wine, right? Easy-peasy. He even does it in intervals, letting the flavour sink into his tongue before he takes another sip.

Admittedly, he despises the taste, but that’s not very regal of him. _Oh yes, Your Majesty, I severely dread consuming the fruits of our kingdom’s labour, even though it’s considered delicious by every normal person_. That doesn’t sound too good; thank God his blank expression covers his screaming taste buds.

“Not poison, then,” Youngjae concludes, taking the glass back and having a sip himself. He sighs in pleasure at the taste. “Thank you.”

Jongup realizes he’s being horribly disrespectful when he can’t form the words to respond, but Youngjae just smiles at him and picks up a sweet—a cranberry tart.

 

Just like that, Jongup’s mouth is watering and he forgets about the weird taste of wine.

 

He’s brought back to the time when his grandmother used to make similar treats, and the nostalgia coupled with newfound hunger is almost too much to bear.

“This might be poisoned as well,” Youngjae says, then hums. He holds it out to Jongup, just like the wine. “Eat half of it.”

Jongup happily complies, showing off all the apathy he can muster. He almost lets a ‘thank you’ slip out before he remembers that he’s testing for poison. He takes a measured bite of the tart, exactly half, and-

It’s fucking heaven.

The dry taste of cranberry has always been a favourite of his, and coupled with whatever amount of sugar was mixed into it—then coupled with the soft pastry-

He almost moans. _Almost._

Nothing he’s ever tasted can compare to the beauty that is this _glorious concoction_. Did the herbalists tamper with this? Did a sorceress cast a spell on it to make it irresistible? It’s almost impossible for Jongup to give the other half back to Youngjae after just one bite.

“Not poison, then,” Youngjae repeats. He pops the rest of the tart in his mouth and chews slowly, closing his eyes.

It’s almost like he’s trying to be seductive.

 

And Jongup never realized eating could be seductive, until now.

 

“I think we can conclude that these sweets are free from poison,” Youngjae says.

A surprising wave disappointment overcomes Jongup—he’d wanted to test all of them.

“But we can never be too careful, can we?” Youngjae continues, with a teasing tone in his voice. “I think I should have you test all of them.”

Oh.

Well, then. 

 _What a blessed day it is for Jongup._ A million different sensations, all good, overwhelm him one after another. Blueberries that melt on his tongue, strawberries with more flavour than he ever expected them to have, and even the rare delicacy of mangoes from several kingdoms to the south. More types of chocolate and coffee treats than he thought were even possible, and the familiar taste of sweet rolls that Daehyun likes to make when he’s hungry and bored.

What a blessed day, indeed.

 

At some point, Youngjae starts hand-feeding him the treats rather than having him grab them, and a light blush spreads over Jongup’s cheeks.

 

* * *

 

 

Sooner than later, the entire tray is void of any sweets at all, and Jongup feels like he’s ascended into godhood.

Although, he’s perplexed. It felt less like he was tasting the sweets for poison and more like Youngjae was serving him.

It sounds embarrassingly scandalous when he thinks of it like that, but he can’t deny the tingles in his chest when Youngjae’s thumb caught on his lip.

“Thank you for your service,” Youngjae says earnestly, placing his hand on Jongup’s shoulder to stop him from leaving. “But as you know, a king can never be too careful. Perhaps there was poison, but it got caught on my lips before I could eat it. I dare not lick my lips, in case this is true.”

Jongup stares, even more confused than before, while Youngjae smirks at him.

 

_“Would you please taste them, in case there is poison?”_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> AND THEN THEY HAD SEX! THE END
> 
> (btw please go read Hearth bc i will love you forever)


End file.
